


Freddie Finds a Better Way

by TheAstronomer



Category: The Take (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Masturbation, Misogyny, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Short One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:33:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAstronomer/pseuds/TheAstronomer
Summary: Written from a prompt on Tumblr a few months back.Freddie Jackson is a nasty shithead character - this is reflected here.





	Freddie Finds a Better Way

Freddie Jackson was buzzing.  His veins fizzing and singing with the cocaine which was still coursing through them.  True, he’d done enough coke to fell an elephant but he was still going strong, even if he was soaked with sweat and had a bad case of the gurn.  His best shirt was ripped and he’d lost one of his grey Italian leather loafers after some wanker had taken against him when he’d broken a fucking pool cue over his bonce.  Bit of a scuffle and then that twat Jimmy had pulled him off and put him in a taxi home.  London was full of chancers all waiting to take his throne.  _Ozzy’s throne_ , Freddie corrected himself like a good boy, as he unlocked the door to the squalid flat he shared with Jackie and the kids.

‘Fuck’s sake!’ he spat, stepping over a jumble of broken kids’ toys heaped behind the front door. The place stank. Jackie rarely emptied the bins until they were overflowing and a plague of flies haunted the kitchen, trailing shit all over the surfaces.  _Dirty slag!_ Freddie’s own mum had kept a spotless house. Didn’t stop his dad knocking them all about but at least when little Freddie landed on his face on the floor after a backhander from his old man, he didn’t end up with a mouth full of mouldy food and fucking lego.

Freddie hobbled his way into the living room, kicking off his remaining shoe in the hallway as he went.  There were a couple of the kids sleeping on the sofa, faces illuminated by the static fuzz of the telly.  The kids were always filthy too, smeared in jam and chocolate, sticky little hot paws all over him, always wanting attention. Bit like Jackie really.  He left the kids where they were, chugged down some water straight from the tap in the kitchen.  He’d better go to fucking bed then, if his brain would let him sleep.  Freddie could feel that the coke was starting to wear off slightly – if he really wanted he could just do another bump and head back out into the night.  _No-one could stop him.  No-one could stop him from doing anything he fucking wanted._   

The bedroom was pitch black, but as Freddie’s eyes accustomed to it, he could make out the form of Jackie, sprawled in the bed.  She was snoring, her mouth open, and the whole room stank of booze.  He stripped off quickly, dumping the clothes on the floor.  He slid into bed silently, mind still fizzing and jumping.  _Fucking wankers, all of them lot, fakers and cowards. Ozzy trusted **him** to sort things out. _ As always, frustration and cocaine gave him a random hard-on. His turned on his side and gazed at Jackie – a fuck might settle him down.  A line of dribble inched its way down Jackie’s chin. Change of tack, he wasn’t going to shag Jackie, which was always more effort than it was worth anyway, specially when she was pissed and like a sack of spuds… no, he was going to have a wank.  So now, Freddie had found a better way to calm himself down and get some shut-eye.  His dick, hardening nicely, told him what he needed to do. He took himself in hand with a slow exhalation of breath, and closed his eyes.  A trawl through the wank-bank brought him the image which most often came up now: Maggie.  Fucking forbidden fruit; his wife’s sister and his cousin’s wife.  

Despite fucking like a jackhammer, Freddie liked to bring himself off slow, luxurious almost.  Rubbing his thumb over the head, his grip round his cock was initially quite loose, as he set up a smooth rhythm.   _Ah, and there was Maggie… bending over in her tight jeans, tits framed by that little blouse she wore_.  She nearly always looked at him in disgust, her lip curled. He found that turned him on too; her hatred, her scorn.  It was like fuel to the fire.  And Jesus, were his balls burning for her.

Fuck, he was as hard as steel now, his grip tightening, arm muscles tensing to accommodate the movement and angle as he fucked his own fist, tongue caught between his crooked teeth, eyes screwed shut.  This was going to be quicker than he intended with Maggie dancing through his mind’s eye.  Deep, hard strokes were bringing him closer, that familiar clench deep in his bollocks, sweat beading on his forehead.

Movement, and a deep groan next to him put him off his stride; Jackie, stirring.  _Fucking hell, she were a total fun sponge,_  he thought dimly, trying to keep his rhythm going.  He didn’t give a shit either way if she caught him, he just needed to spill his load now.

Jackie, awaking to the familiar jerky movement of her husband tossing himself off, rubbed her eyes, head thumping with the cheap liebfraumilch wine she had caned earlier.  God, but he was beautiful, his neck corded with muscle, thick thighs tense as his hand worked his cock.  Sometimes, she pretended to be still asleep and just watched him, his lips tight and chest heaving, as he came onto his own taut stomach.  

‘Oh babe, let me at least help you out?’ she rolled towards him sleepily, emitting a blast of stale alcohol, hand reaching to caress his hip.

‘Shut it, Jackie, you ain’t getting involved in this. It’s between a man and his hand, right?’ he panted, giggling at his own joke and batting her hand off, while Jackie whined and fidgeted next to him.

‘You ain’t being fair, Freddie!’

‘LIFE ain’t fair, love…’ he ground out, hand a blur. ‘Tell you what, get your tits out, Jacks…’

‘Oh Fred, not again.’

‘Next time, I’ll shag you Jacks, nice and slow…’ He positioned himself above her, barely breaking his stride, as she pulled her nightshirt off.  But when he looked down, it was Maggie. Maggie with her dark hair spread on the pillow, hooded brown eyes staring up at him.  That sarcastic, scornful look on her face.  

_Oh, you beautiful little bitch!_

Freddie Jackson came, violently.  Now he would get a decent night’s kip, guaranteed. Result.


End file.
